Atmospheric Pigments
by Silent Fay
Summary: After all these years, he still manages to surprise me. Today, red may be a symbol of hope, happiness, or rage, but so could blue tomorrow, or yellow from last year. For all I know he could be seeing them at different hues, like how no two people can see colors identically.


**ATMOSPHERIC PIGMENTS**

He told me the sky is red when his eyes bled tears, blurring his vision as he walks away from the ice, his embracing home for as long as he can remember. He missed the podium that year, due to a leg injury. The pain was magnified because he felt like his body was betraying him, and it was out of his control. Yura has been proud of the routine he has ceaselessly worked on for months. Spent grueling days perfecting it, hours building up to that moment, when he can show the world what he is truly made of… only to stop half-way when it mattered most, because his developing body can't catch up with his genius and ambition.

The sky was yellow when he visited me in Almaty, sunny smile adorning his face, lime eyes brimming with excitement and exultation. He told me everything was bright, it may seen uncharacteristic for many, but he's long shed the mask of annoyance in my presence. We spent three weeks riding around town, lazing every afternoon, taking him to my favorite places, and indulging him with my favorite past-times. At the end of the week, my favorite spots became his, and I discovered new ones just because new memories flood them. Twinkle of mirth on his eyes as he tries various street delicacies we pass by. I introduced my family to him and I can't help but notice, the longing looks he cast on my parents, and the fond gazes he shares with my siblings. I told him he's welcome in our home anytime, my family loved him with no questions asked, and it was with great reluctance when we had to bid each other goodbye.

He passingly mentioned the boring blue sky when he was having a rather uneventful day at practice, but we both knew it was a lie, he was actually seeing a swirling mess of turquois as he told me later that night. Viktor and Yuuri's upcoming wedding has been distracting him, and it was making him anxious. He's worried if they're really making the right decision, after having the reputation for impulsion He looks up to both of them, and as much as he hates to admit it, he cares deeply for the erratic couple. They were achingly perfect for each other, and Yuri wouldn't know who'd be most devastated between the three of them if this relationship crashed and burned. Now that they're dabbling to normalcy, Yura is also uncertain on how long they will still be involved in his life. It made me wonder if there will be a time normalcy will catch up on Yuri too.

A few months later, Yuri's tumultuous sky would settle to a deep ocean blue, as the couple exchanges their pledge and 'I do.' I'd catch a few stray tears on his eyes, much like splashing waves on the pale sand. In that moment we all know, nothing will always be smooth sailing and perfect, but Viktor and Yuuri made the right decision of continuing their voyage together.

The Russian fairy with soldier eyes took the competition by storm, gliding with vengeance and graceful determination when he finally returned to the unforgiving folds of the ice. If it was possible, he became more enchanting, but it takes no genius to realize that Yuri is only halfway evolving. It was a turbulent gray, he whispered to me as we stood side by side, like the hurricane I become that earned me the spot for gold. Proudly he told me that I better work twice as hard, if I wanted to stand a chance next year. I didn't tell him, I didn't need the warning, as we all knew it was only a matter of time before our best isn't enough when he takes off. So I simply smirked in his direction, igniting his raging enthusiasm as I tell him 'You wish.' It was only with a promise of a competent rival did he let his contentment shine through… for now.

It was a lovely shade of orange, he told me, when he met this dance major guy at his university. He told me the colors blossomed, like how something warm bloomed on his chest whenever he hears his name. I wonder if this guy would realize how special Yuri is, and would he ever see the beauty beneath layers and layers of idiosyncrasy. They started dating not long after. He makes Yuri smile; the kind that reaches his eyes, the kind that rarely graces the world, but not to me… never for me. You see it used to be an almost permanent fixture when we were together, or at least that's how it used to be. I remember the first time I saw that smile, he told me the sky burst pink like the carnations we sneak to each other during competitions. And it was good enough for me, despite the nagging feeling that I may see those smiles less and less directed to me.

The sky was a solemn shade of lilac when Yura buried his grandfather. He can't help but give out a small hollow laugh at how fitting it is, because they were his grandpa's favorite flowers. He was mostly subdued and detached. People expressing their condolences were nothing more than passing blur of faces. I stayed with him, 'till we're the only ones left in the cemetery. I stood from a distance, knowing he has to face this alone before he accepts any comfort offered to him, because that's how Yuri is, he's learned to stand on his own feet regardless of how shaky they are. That's how he kept himself strong, long enough to keep fighting, for him and for his grandfather. Gut-wrenching cries reverberates in his chest, spilling into his eyes and lips, racking his lithe frame breaking that formidable bravado. I wanted to hold him, well aware that no one can fill that void on his chest that was left by one Nikolai Plisetsky, so I waited there until Yuri was ready to reach out and be consoled.

The sky was marbles of magenta and purple when we were rehearsing for 'Pitchit on Ice'. It was an amusing experience, I have to admit, although Yura kept his best to be his salty self which called for his role anyway. Performing together with all our skater friends, without the pressure of competition was different. We all, as most would observe, are interestingly different bunch, but Pitchit has a way of bringing people together. Working side by side, and having inputs turn in to this magnanimous project was fulfilling in ways that allows you contentment when you lie in bed at night, a reminiscent smile whenever someone hums a tune from one of the songs. Putting up a show with various people, making sacrifices, and commitments has brought us to build bridges we never thought we'd cross. Despite the ridiculous costume, Yuri was so carefree during the whole performance, he'd admit to me later that the catchy music swayed him to the extent that he memorized all the songs by heart. He's even befriended the girl who wrote most of the songs, although still unknowing that it was I who arranged a few of them. He'd privately be singing those tunes in the comfort of his shower for months to come.

He won another gold, after three consecutive years, and the sky was dark for Yuri. He told me it was like being in an abyss, his future infinite yet uncertain. It looked like it was about to swallow him; it felt lonely. I was tempted to pull him out of it, 'till he tells me how he holds on that one speck of white to keep him grounded. I didn't bother asking who and what that white translates to, fearing that I might lose mine.

It was brown, like freshly brewed coffee, he told me after we went out to have lunch with Leo and Guang-hong. I can't imagine having russet sky, and still look comforted by it, nonetheless he looked content as we sat side by side, my chest pillowing his head. The gentle summer afternoon breeze lulling him to sleep, savoring the peace before we head back to Yuutopia.

He tells me of the same color but bearing not the same emotions. After all these years, he still manages to surprise me. Today, red may be a symbol of hope, happiness, or rage, but so could blue tomorrow, or yellow from last year. For all I know he could be seeing them at different hues, like how no two people can see colors identically. It doesn't matter to me if he sees the sky unlike most people do – the same sky blue color dashed with white clouds. For Yuri this is normal – seeing the sky with atypical shades, and that's good enough for me, he trusts me enough to know that I will accept him despite the things that deviates him from the norm. So when he asked me, one day out of curiosity, of how the sky looked to me, I wanted to tell him that all I see…

… is kaleidoscope green.

A/N: Originally posted on Ao3.  
Hi guys feel free to drop your thoughts, feelings, rants, constructive criticisms, and more, they are very much appreciated and welcomed, just find a way to express them politely please! ^_^ Anyways, enjoy and have a good day/night!


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